Sometimes that desire becomes a positive frenzy." He laughed complacently.

"That is love," said he.
She did not resent his tone or dispute his verdict externally.

"If it is love," replied she evenly, "then never did love wear so strange, so dreadful a disguise." He laid his talon-hand, hardened and misshapen by manual labor, but if ugly, then ugly with the majesty of the twisted, tempest-defying oak, over hers.

"Believe me, Margaret, you love me.

You have loved me all along....